


mirror

by noyabeans (snowdrops)



Series: writing with snowdrops (saso 2017) [15]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Gen, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:04:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/noyabeans
Summary: Atsumu is nine when he looks into the mirror hanging on his bedroom wall and his reflection doesn't copy him.





	mirror

**Author's Note:**

> fill for **saso 2017 bonus round 5: clue**.  
>  original prompt is [here](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24808.html?thread=15366888#cmt15366888).
> 
> clue:  
> Atsumu in his bedroom with the broken mirror
> 
> **proceed with caution, this fic is rated M for a reason**

Atsumu is nine when he looks into the mirror hanging on his bedroom wall and his reflection doesn't copy him.

Instead, it cocks its head and gives him a curious stare, then a wave, before it turns away. Atsumu watches it - him? It's strange to know that that is how he appears to other people, black hair swept to a side, the bangs stubbornly falling over his eyes.

He looks into the bathroom mirror half an hour later, when he's brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, but this time his reflection simply stares back at him, foam moustache and all.

There's no sign of his mirror self anywhere as he gets ready for school the next day, checking his uniform collar in the bedroom mirror before he heads downstairs for breakfast. When he brings it up with his mother, she tells him he must have dreamed it.

For a while, Atsumu believes her.

A few days later he's on the way out of the bedroom to grab a snack from downstairs when he catches a glimpse of the mirror. His reflection is standing stock-still, peering at him, as though watching him through a window.

Atsumu gulps, and without stopping to wonder if the boy in the mirror can even hear him, or understand him, he says as loudly as he dares, "Wait for me! I'll be back!" before bounding down the stairs, suddenly nervous like he had been that one time he'd had to do show-and-tell about his hobbies (he'd brought a volleyball and told his class how his dad played it with him and he loved to play with Kenji who lived next door and that one day both of them were going to be part of the Japanese national team, and his teacher had nodded proudly and said "I'm sure you will." and he hadn't been nervous to talk about volleyball any more, after that.)

He grabs a packet of chocolate milk and is about to make himself a peanut butter sandwich when he thinks better of it, because what if the boy in the mirror thinks he's not coming back? and instead clambers onto the low stool in front of the cabinet where the box of crackers is stored. He's allowed to eat two crackers a day as a midday snack, and he's already fished out two of them and is getting ready to climb back down when he wonders if the boy in the mirror will be hungry and whether he'll be able to somehow share crackers with him, because he doesn't want to share his milk, there isn't enough even for Atsumu alone.

With four crackers in his hand and a packet of chocolate milk in the other Atsumu takes the steps two at a time, flinging his bedroom door open once he reaches it, even though his parents always scold him when he's rough with the furniture. Much to his relief, the boy is still in the mirror, though his body is angled away from Atsumu, his eyes looking at something else.

Then he turns around to face Atsumu, and he looks almost surprised for a moment, before his features - Atsumu’s own - smoothen and he smiles, a little shyly.

"I'm Atsumu," Atsumu blurts. "Who are you?"

"I'm Osamu," the boy in the mirror says. His voice sounds a little muffled, like he's talking through glass. "Nice to meet you, Atsumu-kun."

As it turns out, you can't pass food through a mirror and you can't touch people inside a mirror, but you can talk, and talk Atsumu does.

He finds out that Osamu and him are the same age, that Osamu is an only child like him, that Osamu’s parents work at a hospital and he's usually alone at home, like him. Osamu doesn't play volleyball, but he plays basketball with his neighbour, a boy called Kenjirou who has a bit of a temper but is actually very nice, and also really good at basketball.

Atsumu isn't sure how long he spends talking to Osamu through the mirror, but he hears the front door creak open and his mum calls up the stairs, "'Tsumu, I'm home!" he hastily stands up, cracker crumbs falling off his pants and onto the ground, and says guiltily to Osamu, "I need to go, but let's talk again?"

Osamu nods, smiling again, just a little quirk of his lips, and Atsumu waves bye-bye as he runs down to greet his mother.

He can't stop grinning, even though he gets scolded for eating four crackers and leaving crumbs all over the carpet.

 

Years pass, and he continues talking to Osamu. The posters on Osamu’s wall change, as do those on Atsumu’s, and at some point he shifts his mirror so that it's behind his study table, allowing him to do his schoolwork and talk to Osamu simultaneously. Their conversations almost get walked in a few times by their parents, but they always dodge it by saying they're studying out loud.

When they enter high school, it's a no-brainer that Atsumu joins the volleyball club, just as it is a no-brainer that Osamu joins the basketball club. Oddly enough they’re both attending Inarizaki High School, but Osamu doesn’t attend his school, and well - he doesn’t attend Osamu’s either, but he’s come to accept that Osamu probably lives on a parallel plane of existence separate from his own. It hasn’t stopped them from growing up together, so Atsumu doesn’t see why the knowledge should change anything else.

And now that they're older, more free to do their own things, one day Atsumu impulsively challenges Osamu to dye his hair, just to change things up a little. He comes home that night after training to Osamu wearing a cocky smile that has to be picked up from Atsumu himself. His hair is dyed ash gray, and Atsumu figures - since they're not the same person, and not quite reflections of each other anymore, it's only right that he dye his own hair too.

 

The Inarizaki volleyball club is good, and his team mates are friendly, but sometimes it feels like something's missing, like his teammates can't keep up with his tosses or he gets told off for being too reckless with his plays.

'Samu raises an eyebrow when Atsumu tells him as much; over the years he's become much more reticent with his words, but Atsumu spends enough time talking to him to read all the nuances in each of his movements.

He sighs. Training today had been rough - Kita-san had scolded him for making a toss too high and too fast for any spiker to hit, and Atsumu had bitten down on an instinctive retort that _If Kenji was still playing volleyball he’d be able to hit it_ , because of how familiar he was with Atsumu’s tosses. But Kenji had quit volleyball after middle school, and they no longer hung out as much as they did when they were younger. It was frustrating, but Atsumu had taken it for what it was - after all, people grow up, and grow apart.

“Hey, ‘Samu,” he says, not knowing what he really wants to say. “You’re pretty good at basketball, aren’t you?”

‘Samu hums, looking up briefly through his bangs, before his lips quirk into a smile. ”I’d like to think so.”

He writes something down on his notes, then looks back up at Atsumu. “Why?”

Atsumu shrugs. He’s not even sure why he asked. “I dunno, just thinking. Y’know, ‘Samu -”

“Hmm?”

“Ever wondered how it’d be like to have a brother?”

‘Samu puts down his pen. Stares at him for long enough that Atsumu starts to fidget under the weight of his gaze. “What are you trying to say?”

Atsumu drops his eyes, thinks about the way the ball had felt, leaving his hands during the practice match today. A perfect arc, just fast enough and high enough to slam into the opponent’s court without them having any time to prepare. If only someone had been there to hit it. “If only we were brothers. I’m sure we’d be unstoppable.”

‘Samu doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything at all. He’s wearing an expression on his face that Atsumu, for once, has no idea how to read.

 

The day Atsumu ends his high school volleyball career is the day that everything comes crashing down in pieces. He knows the loss of the match is mostly his fault, even though Suna and Ginjima try to persuade him otherwise. He’d gotten better at it - better at tossing balls that even the rookiest of rookies can hit easily, better at reading the mood of his team and controlling the flow of the game, but today, somehow, he’d lost himself in his panic. The team had been strong, stronger than they’d expected, and out of desperation he’d tried to send a high ball, a fast ball, to their spikers - except nobody could hit it, and he’d felt himself falling apart right there in the middle of the court. Just a little faster, just a little higher, and that point would have been theirs -

‘Samu isn’t there when he seats himself in front of the mirror, still simmering with anger and irritation, and when he looks into the mirror to see himself staring back at himself, he’s overwhelmed by a sudden rush of frustration, because why couldn’t he have had Osamu as a teammate? ‘Samu’s told him enough about his basketball games, and he _knows_ ‘Samu’s a good player. Even without ever having seen him play, Atsumu _knows_ in the deepest part of his heart that ‘Samu would be equally fantastic at volleyball.

If _only_. The world is so unfair.

He doesn’t realise what he’s doing until he’s already done it, the mirror shattering against his knuckles. The pain comes later, drowned out by adrenaline and blood pounding in his ears, and then his mother comes in, crying his name, and he doesn’t see much beyond the cuts on his knuckles, his mother cradling his hands as she cries, and cries, and cries, “I’m sorry, Atsumu, I know it hurts -”

But the mirror dust on his knuckles can’t compare to the windshield glass littered wildly on the floor, and all his mother’s apologies can’t drown out the echoes of ‘Samu’s angry, bitter words the day he walked out the door and never returned.

_“I knew I should have joined the basketball team instead of always hiding in your shadow, ‘Tsumu.”_

And the worst part of it all is that when he looks into the shards of broken silver lying on his bedroom floor, he still can’t stop seeing ‘Samu looking right back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever think about the fact that if Atsumu didn’t have Osamu he might well have grown up just like Kageyama, as the King of the Court?
> 
> [tumblr (rielity)](https://rielity.tumblr.com/) | [twitter (noyabeans)](https://twitter.com/noyabeans) | [haikyuu writing journal](https://noyabeans.dreamwidth.org/)


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